Heat of the Moment
by OnTheWildside
Summary: Set pre-apocalypse, this one-shot is just Daryl being Daryl and taking advantage of an opportune moment. Rated M for language and sexual content.


I had been watching him for sometime.

Daryl Dixon was strapped for cash and had actually offered to help me repair my fence after the storm sent the horses running, ripping down a good portion of the main gate. It was the first time I had ever heard him speak one word. The word around town was that he needed to get up enough cash to get his brother out of jail for the fourth or fifth time. I wouldn't doubt it.

Honestly, I was a little surprised he had stopped by. Sure, their trailer park was just past our farm and you could see the fence from the road. I knew it had to be repaired, but things were getting more and more difficult since my husband, Travis, had died in the car accident. I didn't know the first thing about repairing a fence and I was having a time tending to the animals and the fields by myself as it was.

I could feel his eyes on me, too. Every time I turn my back, the incessant hammering would stop and I would glance over my shoulder and catch him staring.

The storm was rolling in over the hills. The clouds were dark and looming in over us. I had been out in the fields all morning handpicking the vegetables and Daryl had long been at replacing all the fence posts.

"Looks like rain." I said, walking out of the field, placing my basket of corn on the ground and wiping my forehead with the back of my arm.

"Yeah." He muttered, still concentrating on the fencing.

"You gonna finish this in the rain?"

"Don't see why not."

"Yer gonna git electrocuted, Dixon."

"I'll be fine."

"Stubborn as a damn mule." I muttered. "Ye want anything? Lemonade? Tea?"

"Water's fine."

"Well, yer 'bout tag it plenty o' that." I laughed. He didn't quite get the joke and just stared. "I'll be right back."

I marched up the stairs into the big house. It was quiet and dark, as usual the past few months. I went to the kitchen to fetch a glass and filled it from the tap. From the window of the sink I could see Daryl, pounding fence posts into the ground, his broad shoulders, tan and muscular. Sweat glistened on his face, soaking his shirt. I shook myself from my thoughts and walking back outside, handing him the glass. He nodded at me and took it, downing the whole glass in one gulp.

"I'm 'bout ta start supper, if ye'd like ta join me."

"I was gonna finish this. Then feed the animals."

"You don't have ta do that. I kin manage."

"Ye need help around here. I don't mind helpin'." He leaned his shovel up against a fence post and directed his attention towards me.

"I can't pay much."

"S'all right." He ran is hand through his hair, biting his lip in the process. I almost shuddered, shaking my head to erase the thought from my mind. "I need a distraction more than I need the money."

"Distraction?"

He looked off at something distant, towards the storm clouds that were closing in.

"You kin stop with the fence for the day. Go feed the animals and get cleaned up. Dinner's at six. No excuses."

He just nodded and grabbed his tools, heading for the barn.

* * *

Supper was ready and Daryl was still in the barn.

I crossed the yard as the sky began to let loose a light drizzle. I peered into the barn and found Daryl singing to one of the horses, Shiloh, who was famously afraid of storms. He was the main reason the fence was torn down. Daryl was stroking the length of his nose and humming something I couldn't quite hear, but it sounded nice, soothing even.

"That's nice. What is that?" I startled him out of his daze. He was stunned into silence, turning black and glaring at me. "Don't be embarrassed."

"Ain't embarrassed. Somethin' my mom use' ta sing me when I was a kid." He shuffled his feet in the dirt, staring at them intently.

I nodded. "Supper's ready."

"If it's all the same ta you, I think I'll just head home."

"Are you sure?"

"Look, I ain't gonna replace yer husband. Juss because you're a lonely old widow, doesn't mean I have ta hang 'round and entertain ye." He snapped. As if on queue, lightning struck and it began to poor outside.

"You're unbelievable, ya know that? The whole fucking town is right. Just go. I don't need yer help anymore. Just get the fuck off my property, ya dumb hick."

For a moment, remorse struck his face. "I didn't – oh whatever. It would be my fuckin' pleasure." He pushed past me and stomped out of the barn and into the pouring rain.

"Don't walk away from me, Dixon!" I yelled, following him out into the rain.

"Make up yer damn mind, woman!"

I had made up my mind, though. In that moment I ran the distance between us, stopping just behind him and he spun to look at me. I gripped the sides of his vest and pulled his lips down to meet mine. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled back completely staring down at me, his clear blue eyes boring into mine like daggers, scrutinizing me. "Aw, fuck it." He muttered, pushing me backwards into the barn and covering my lips with his again.

He pinned my body to the peeling paint using his. Rain poured from the sky all around us. My hair was sopping wet in a loose, high bun, tiny strands falling around in ringlets, clinging to my face. Our clothes were likewise soaked and hanging on our bodies, cumbering the process of undressing. In a matter of moments, Daryl had my tank top around my neck, roughly pawing at my breasts as he continued the restless assault on my lips. His hair was sticking to his forehead.

He moved swiftly between us with one hand, undoing my pants with quick skill and forcing the denim down my legs. He shoved his hands down my soaked panties, prodding my insides with his fingers. I winced at the unfamiliar touch, but didn't stop him. He slid the material down my legs and I kicked the discarded clothing away, snaking my legs around his hips. I slid my hands up his arms, trying to slide his vest off, but he winced and grabbed my wrists, almost a painful action. He glared at me, sternly saying "No." without words.

Daryl Dixon had boundaries, but apparently shamelessly fucking a widow up against the side of a barn in the pouring rain wasn't going to be one of them.

Moments later, he fiddled with his zipper, wiping out his steadily rising erection. "Yer sure?" He muttered. I nodded, biting my lip and egging him on with my hips. The sexual tension between he and I had been mounting all day. If he wasn't inside of me soon, I think I might burst. He took a deep breath and in a huff he was snug inside of me, slow at first, then, as he got a rhythm going, he was pounding me into the wall. One hand was under my arm, trying to hold me still as the other hand snaked between us and was furiously rubbing at my clit. His head hung beside mine, leaning his forehead against the barn as we both tried to manage breathing in the midst of this storm, both surrounding us and brewing internally. Each movement became more and more insistent, each thrust more menacing and pleading. I was pretty sure I'd have splinters in my ass after this, and somehow I didn't care. I held the collar of his vest for support as he drove into me. Daryl was close, I could tell, and he had been edging me closer and closer to a long overdue orgasm.

Suddenly he pulled out of me and took himself in his own hands, thrusting a few good pumps over the length of him until he came all over my thigh. I sighed, my breath still lapsing, but completely disheartened at the fact that I hadn't had a chance to come yet. As if reading my mind, Daryl dropped to his knees, burying his mouth in the apex of my thighs and holding my thighs still as he ravaged my insides with his tongue, his chin scruff tickling against my bare skin. It took my body a moment to catch up with what was happening and soon I was spasming all around his tongue, covering his face with my own sweet liquid.

He pulled away, smirking at me as he rose to his feet again, righting himself and zipping his fly. He bent down and grabbed my clothes while I pulled my tank top back down, still trying to catch my breath. He handed me my panties and shorts. "Thanks." I blushed, suddenly aware at how naked my bottom half was. I held the material in front of me, knowing how difficult it would be to put on wet jeans right now.

"Don't mention it." He glanced over his shoulder to the truck, then back to me. "I think I should prolly be headin' out. Storm seems ta be gittin' worse."

That's true. It was raining more and more heavily and there were crashes of thunder and lightning all around us as the sky grew increasingly more dark, both with clouds and approaching nightfall. "Will ye be back in the mornin'?" He just nodded at me, biting his lip and brushing his hair from his forehead, simultaneously wiping away some of the rain.

"I still haven't paid ye yet." I smiled, jokingly.

"I think ye paid me enough fer today." He smirked, sauntering to his truck and taking off down the driveway, leaving me there. Though somehow I had a hunch I wasn't the only one bare and exposed.


End file.
